Proteus, the prototype human, was speaking with the radiant Evita when Archie, the archaeopteryx, traced out a semaphoric flight path as a warning. Lulled by the night-lit lumens of his own voice, Proteus ignored the ancient bird and continued with his exposition of the integers.
When solar rays were manifest,
Proteus had an inkling that his feeble wisdom
did not limit the world, and recognized
the twin subversions of his dreams,
ignorance and arrogance,
but the revelation came too late.
Hold on a sec.
Evita turned away,
and Proteus followed her gaze.
A newly formed creation was approaching
from the beach, an unexpected byproduct
of his boastful conversation.
~/~
Evita, Número Uno, admired Número Dos.
Oh, such frameable burning symmetry.
I have rhetorical questions concerning
proton fusion in the cores of stars,
and you.
Cool. I call myself Adamstown.
Número Dos was stripier than Evita,
but he certainly wasn’t stellar in any way.
That’s what Proteus told himself.
Evita and Adamstown looked to the sea,
looked to the sunrise,
and Evita turned to Proteus,
who was trying to count his toes.
I will keep you in my core,
where cooler fusion powers me.
You enabled my existence.
Adamstown was more succinct.
Ditto, dude. Later.
Their ionized auras flared, touched,
and they were gone from the land to the ocean,
skimming off its whiteness.
Proteus uttered a series of exclamation points,
and the nimble archaeopteryx narrowly avoided
a blowtorch defeathering.
to continue
about
- terrestrial (European++) magnetically confined fusion and the sun’s fusion powerhouse
- Adamstown and its denizens
- William Blake (1794) The Tyger reprise, previous
- more recycling of Jack Vance’s recycling of Homer, previous
artwork
x-ray coastline (part above). Made by VEE, the visual evolution engine. VEE and TIM (the illustrated mind, EEG) artworks are now at Artxio, a global online art market based in Sydney.
Evita and Adamstown looked to the sea,
looked to the sunrise,
and Evita turned to Proteus,
who was trying to count his toes.
So tragically brilliant, Steve. The art work is so magical and out of this world! Love it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Sobhana. I guess I have to acknowledge Homer and Jack Vance for that verse, although I have changed it à la Steve.
Glad you liked the artwork, I’m still trying to find out what a computer can do, and “out of this world” is exactly what I want.
LikeLike
Just love the leaps and bounds of this imaginative tale – from the beach of creation to Adamstown, Newcastle (though come to think of it, perhaps not such a leap :-)). Downside: a whole 7 days for the next instalment.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Peter. Newcastle is definitely special, but I don’t think Adamstown was the centre of creation. As far as I can tell, that part of Australia’s coastline wasn’t on the coast of Pangea back in the Jurassic. Neither was Wollongong. In case you’re wondering.
I try not to think how many days it is until Saturday to avoid stress. Also to Christmas.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Laughing here.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Steve! your poem,, so lovely so intriguing and so very entertaining.
I feel like there are sub author notes written with invisible ink saying ‘check this out’ remember this person? time for a re-read? You are a wordsmith sprinkling us your fans with wanderlust and curiosity.
Your mind in the artwork: wow. each one more intriguing than the last. I do hope you are printing them off and large possibly onto a canvas. You can also do a photo transfer onto canvas quite easily. I can easily see a showing of a selection of your poems with their corresponding image.
Now I have to somehow settle my mind down enough to sort receipts for my year-end :(.
Thanks for this morning rush hehehe
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you so much, Tamaya. You reminded me of invisible ink when I was a kid: lemon juice, I think, and then the paper held over a candle, and it always caught fire.
My writing is perhaps partially my own curiosity about the world, I am so glad that it is transmitted through the cables.
I’m also very encouraged that you favor printing and a showing. Of course I greatly value your opinion, and yes, I have done a few giclée, both canvas and textured paper, framed, so far to A1.
I have too many tasks as we approach the end of year as well. I don’t particularly enjoy some of them, to be honest, especially the shopping with the crowds. It is a pleasure to read your comment.
LikeLike
I enjoyed the poem, and the picture’s delicate colours and shapes are beautiful. I still don’t know how your pictures are achieved, but I realise explanations are too complicated. Thank you again Steve improving the world.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Margaret. With the artwork, honestly, the computer code is pretty involved now, and I have no idea what it’s doing half the time myself. I wish it would stop flashing up messages about taking over the world though. 🙂
My pleasure, and as always, it is good to hear that someone got something from my efforts.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Again, as often, you have made me laugh. Thank you Steve
LikeLiked by 1 person
What a witty, entertaining piece! Proteus should’ve stopped ‘talking’ while he was ahead. If he doesn’t want to end up alone, he better start treating Archie better.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Thank you, Magarisa. Yes, he was warned, and perhaps he deserves to be alone. I’m actually trying to get ahead because of end-of-year commitments, and I can definitely say that something is going to happen, and he might even treat Archie better. 😸
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah… you’re fast-forwarding! 🙂
LikeLike
What a wonderful way with words you have, Steve. I’ve been working on a new poem for the Winter Solstice centering around the sun, of course. You make all those words and images seem so easy! Wishing you a wonderful solstice day (opposite of mine, I believe) in the sun…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thank you, Clarissa. When I’m in the flow, it happens, and when I’m not, I’d better do something else.
Thank you for the Solstice wishes and the same to you. I just looked it up and it’s December 22 here, although it isn’t really the first day of Summer, we’re already well into it. Looking forward to your poem.
LikeLiked by 1 person